Detestari
by Hope Falling
Summary: How to describe this...It's a Snape background fic (No Harry in it!) and it's my attempt at explaining why Snape is the way that he is. (PG for mild language)
1. Authoress' Note

Authoress' Note:   
  
For any one who has stumbled upon this fic before and now thinks I stole the whole thing...This is my fic. I am XellAn-Chan. This didn't get many reviews the first time I posted and, since I abandoned the penname XellAn-Chan, I decided to re-post it under a new name. It's cleaned up, edited and spell checked so it should be a little better now. Hope to get a few reviews!  
  
Thanks for reading and on to the fic...  
  
-Hope Falling  



	2. Chapter 1

Part 1  
  
Severus glanced around the class room. There wasn't much to see, unless you counted all the idiots in his class. He didn't turn around; he knew James Potter and his three friends were behind him and he didn't want to look at them. Professor Visle (_Visle_ rhymes with "isle") stood in front of the class, droning on and on about the things they'd learned the year before.  
  
"You should all remember what we've learned. There were several simple curses and...Potter!" He suddenly barked, "Are you paying attention?!"  
  
Severus smirked. James Potter hadn't been paying attention. He and his friends had been whispering back and forth to one another since the beginning of class.  
  
"Yes, Sir." James responded, "You're talking about last year's curses. Perhaps you'd like me to demonstrate one on Severus?"  
  
Severus whipped around and glared at James Potter. His look was deadly, but James paid no attention. He just pushed his glasses back up his nose and smiled sweetly at the professor.  
  
Severus turned back around and slumped down in his seat, his robes bunching behind him. The year was off to a crummy start. He could hear James' best friend, Sirius Black, sniggering behind him, "Good one, James," He whispered.   
  
Severus sighed. He chewed on the end of his hair, thinking about all the things he'd love to do to James Potter and Sirius Black. An Imperius curse would be nice.  
  
"No thank you, Potter," Professor Visle went on, "I think we can do without a demonstration. Now, as I was saying..."  
  
"Professor! Professor!" Peter Pettigrew was squeaking. Severus could picture him, his hand waving around, his ratlike face twisted into a grin. Peter was a small, rodent of a boy and he greatly admired and looked up to both James and Sirius.  
  
Severus pulled his hair out of his mouth. He had a problem with chewing on it when he was angry and Peter loved to rat him out. Professor Visle was constantly telling him it was disgusting.  
  
"I...Oh, never minded." Peter said sullenly. He hated missing a chance to get some one in trouble.  
  
"If there are no further interruptions...As I was saying, you should all remember what we've learned. There will be a short quiz tomorrow to see what you recall. But for now, can any one tell me the names of the curses we learned last year?"  
  
Severus raised his hand. Not only did he know the name of every curse they'd learned, he knew how to perform them, along with several others they hadn't ben taught.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Snape? You know them all? That doesn't surprise me in the least. Go on then; let's have 'em."  
  
He opened his mouth and a little yelp came out. Something slimy had gone down his back. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. Sirius had put something down his collar. The whole time, they'd been whispering, planning it..."You've got it, Sirius?...good...wait until he's got his hand raised, he'll be distracted...you're brilliant, James, absolutely brilliant..."  
  
Every one -even the kids from his own house- was laughing at him as he tried to figure out exactly what it was they had put down his back. The laughter of James Potter and his friends echoed through his head, drowning out everything else, including Professor Visle's screaming for order and conduct.  
  
He finally managed to pull what looked like a frog liver out of his robes. He whirled around and flung it at Sirius, ready to start cursing him with everything he had, when he realized Visle was glaring at them.  
  
"It seems we're having quite a few problems over here." The professor stood before them, glowering down at the five boys. "No surprise that it is the five of you causing these problems. I suppose it's back to splitting you up." He said dryly, "Honestly, I thought you might have matured over the summer." He pointed a gnarled finger toward a table of Slytherin girls. "Snape, over there. Potter, you take Snape's seat. Black, stay where you are. Pettigrew and Lupin, you're fine in your seats. You haven't done anything -yet."  
  
Ivy Greeleaf, Lorelei Blacklock and Sorrel Gravestun were all giggling as Severus sat at the table with them. Ivy whispered something to Sorrel and they smirked at him.  
  
James was passing a note to Sirius. He and Remus Lupin leaned over it and read it together. They both looked like they were trying hard not to laugh.  
  
Remus was the quietest of James' friends. He was a light haired boy who always looked like he had just gotten over being ill. It seemed he was sick a lot. he was in and out of the hospital wing every month.  
  
Remus glanced over at Severus and for a second he thought he saw a trace of sympathy in the fair-haired boy's eyes. That was by far the worst possible thing Remus could've offered. Severus hated getting pity from Remus Lupin. He was always so damn mournful looking and it drove Severus crazy.  
  
He stared at Professor Visle so he wouldn't be tempted to look at James or any of his friends. Defense Against the Dark Arts was by far his favorite class at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but he hated Professor Visle. And Nickolai Visle seemed to hate him right back. He was a creepy looking guy, with ashy blond hair, pale grey eyes and white, semi-transparent skin. His robes were smokey grey. He looked about a million years old and he had a temper.  
  
Severus slid down in his seat, ignoring the giggles and snickers of his classmates. He hated having double periods with the Gryfffindors. It'd been the same way the previous year, double Dark Arts , Slytherins and Gryffindors. He looked at the green and silver snake emblazoned on his chest and sighed. Even his fellow Slytherins disliked him.  
  
The bell rang, after what felt like hours, and he gathered up his things. He tucked his ink bottle, his quill and his book into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.  
  
"Mister Snape," Professor Visle's deadly voice came from behind him, "I'd like a word."  
  
He turned around. His pale face was expressionless, his black eyes glistened with the tears he was trying to fight.  
  
"Yes, Professor?" He asked softly  
  
"I would expect better of you, Mr. Snape." The teacher's hands were clamped behind his back; he was drawn up to his full height, which wasn't much, and he looked like a corpse, but he could still render the boy speechless.  
  
Severus wasn't afraid of him, per say, but he was respectful enough to know when to speak and when not to speak.  
  
"Conducting yourself like that, disrupting the whole class. Really, Mr. Snape, was that your idea of a joke?"  
  
"But, Sir, I didn't-"  
  
"Silence! Whatever Potter and his friends did to you, I don't want to hear about it." He snarled, "You wish to teach this class someday, do you not?"  
  
"I do, Professor."  
  
"How can you expect to handle the Dark Arts if you cannot handle teasing from your classmates? You know the curses, the creatures, the spells, but you, Severus Snape, are not Dark Arts material. I expect better behavior tomorrow."  
  
"Yes, Sir," the boy said quietly, "May I go to dinner now, Sir?"  
  
"You may go. And don't forget tomorrow's quiz. I'm expecting top marks for you."  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"Now get lost!"  
  
Severus trudged slowly down to the Great Hall, his bag bumping against his side. What's wrong with me? He wondered, Why am I the only kid in the world without a single friend? What have I done wrong?  
  
He sat alone at the end of the Slytherin table and picked at his food. He pushed it around on the golden plate, feeling less and less hungry every minute.  
  
"That was cute, Severus, the way you screamed like a girl." Evan Rosier and his friends were filling in the seats around Severus.  
  
Besides Evan, the other three boys were Roderick Wilkes, Claudius Lestrange and Kennett Avery. They were all in their second year together. Claudius was by far the best looking. He was blond-haired and blue-eyed and Lorelei liked him. Roderick was a tough, pudgy kid. Kennett was very square and surly and Evan, the ringleader, had brown hair and hazel eyes. He was tall and muscular.  
  
Surrounded by them, Severus looked very small and scrawny. Everything about him was thin -his face was very narrow; his nose, while rather large, was not wide. His glittery black eyes were usually narrowed down to slits. His dark, shoulder-length hair was stringy. He looked like nothing compared to them; like he'd disappear if you turned sideways.  
  
But they knew better than to anger him too much. He'd put a paranoia curse on Kennett the year before that had lasted for a month.  
  
"It was pathetic." Claudius frowned, "You looked like an idiot."  
  
"Why didn't you back me up then?" Severus asked softly, "Why'd you let them do that? I got in trouble for nothing."  
  
"I thought it was funny." Roderick sniggered, "He made you sit with the girls."  
  
Kennett smiled. His laugh was a demented sort of cackle and he tried not to use it much. "Maybe you should stay with the girls, so Potter won't scare you again."  
  
"Maybe you should shut up," Severus spoke in a deadly whisper, "So I don't have to curse you again."  
  
"You wouldn't!"  
  
"You didn't think I would before. I can still perform the _Paranoose. _That's not something one forgets."  
  
"C'mon, Severus. You know I'm only kidding."  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"Sure I am, right guys?"  
  
"Uh-huh!"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"We all are."  
  
They seemed to be paranoid enough without the curse. He smiled slyly. It was wonderful, knowing full well that he was the most advanced Slytherin. He knew things that some seventh years didn't  
  
"Why does Visle hate you so much, Severus?" Claudius asked him, "What did you do to him?"  
  
"Nothing. He just knows that I want a job teaching the Dark Arts, so he pushes me extra hard and won't tolerate my complaining." He stood up to leave, "I've got to go. Quiz tomorrow, you know."  
  
"About that quiz..." Evan began, "You'll sit near us, right?"  
  
"So you can cheat? Copy my answers? No. Find yourself some one gullable enough to let you copy and I'll forgive you for anything you ever did to me." He lifted his bag off the table and stalked out of the hall.  
  
Evan grinned at his friends. "He'll come around. He always does."  
  
But he didn't come around. He plopped himself in the front of the classroom where he'd be under Professor Visle's watchful eye.  
  
Evan glared at him the entire time, but Severus paid no attention, just kept scratching his quill across the parchment. He finished with half an hour to spare, handed in the quiz and sat back to watch every one else sweat through it.  
  
"That was low, Severus, real low." Claudius told him, "Sitting in front of Visle like that."  
  
"Lorelei Blacklock is smart. Why don't you try cheating off of her? She'd probably give you the answers willingly if you asked her."  
  
"We're all Slytherins. We're supposed to stick together."  
  
"Just like yesterday, right? When you all stuck up for me? It doesn't work that way, Claudius. It's every man for himself."  
  
"Geez, it's not like they tried to kill ya or anything. It was a joke."  
  
"Would it have been funny if they'd done it to you?"  
  
"No, but-"  
  
"But nothing. You can't be nice when you feel like it and expect me to be nice all the time. It's simply not like that in the real world. Don't bother me, Claudius. I'm happy by myself."  
  
"But Severus-"  
  
"Just...please...get the hell away." He brandished his wand.  
  
"All right; take it easy. 'M goin'."  
  
He smiled as Claudius backed away. It was good to know they were still afraid of him They were idiots and it he had to keep them in check.  
  
He was in a fairly good mood as he went down the corridor. Showing his wand would keep them away from him for at least two weeks. He was going to get top grade on the quiz and he hadn't been bothered at all by James Potter and his friends.  
  
"What are you so happy about?" Sirius Black's voice came from behind, "You'd think some one who just lost his only friends would be upset."  
  
Severus froze. He turned slowly on the spot to face Sirius. A secretive smile played across his thin face and his eyes narrowed. "Pettigrew failed," He said softly, "He failed the quiz, the little idiot, since he couldn't copy off of Potter."  
  
"That's shit! You big liar, just because you're good at Dark Arts doesn't mean you know everything."  
  
"Wait and see then. But he failed."  
  
"Yeah, shut up. He's not as smart as you, but he's not stupid."  
  
"He failed." Severus said flatly. Then he marched away towards the Slytherin common room. He had learned something very valuable that afternoon -it was both fun and easy to pick on Peter Pettigrew.  
  
Peter was small and nervous and he wasn't much of a wizard. He was getting by mainly because of Sirius, James and Remus and it was easy -very easy- to psych him out. Severus was constantly reminding him about quizzes and tests. Just staring at Peter made him look scared.  
  
He didn't bother Remus much. Remus wasn't any fun because he was quiet and thoughtful and sick all the time. James and Sirius fought back every chance they got. But Peter was a little wimp and didn't do much to stick up for himself.  
  
Lorelei and Sorrel thought it was mean. They didn't like Peter any more than Severus, but they felt he was treating the boy horribly. Ivy thought it was amusing. She was the most cruel and spiteful of the three girls.  
  
Claudius, Kennett, Roderick and Evan loved it to. They were reveling in the idea that Peter was miserable, but they wouldn't tell Severus. They were still afraid he'd hex them.  
  
He became an instant celebrity among the rest of the Slytherins; he was able to torment a Gryffindor and not get caught. Even the older students were congratulating him.  
  
"Hey Severus..." Lorelei's singsong voice broke through his thoughts one afternoon.  
  
"What?" his voice was its usual whisper. He rarely spoke any louder than that, but he had a gift of making people listen.  
  
Her grey eyes sparkled with excitement. "My sister says Lucius is going to let you be part of his group."  
  
Lucius Malfoy. Now there was an interesting kid. He was a fifth year, but the way he acted, you'd think he was head of the school. He had a select group of friends, the majority of which were all fifth years, and joining the group was supposed to be the highest of honors.   
  
"What if I don't want to be part of 'his group?' I don't suppose he's ever thought of that."  
  
"I don't know. Narcissa told me he was considering it, at least But Severus, it's a great thing, being in that group!"  
  
"I know what he wants me for, Lorelei. I'm not dumb. You think he doesn't know that I'm top boy in the house, even though I'm only in my second year? People like Lucius only want one thing. They want power and lots of it. Some people don't understand that not every one is like that. I'll never sink so low as to be like Lucius and I'll have no part in his group."  
  
"But Severus!"  
  
"But nothing, Lorelei. Tell your sister to tell Lucius that I said no. And I mean no."  
  
"You're blowing the chance of a lifetime."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
"Tell 'im yourself then. He's in the common room."  
  
"Fine."  
  
Lorelei glared at him. Her eyes flashed and she flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. "You're really dumb, you know."  
  
"I think I'm being incredibly smart."  
  
"You'll regret it later."  
  
"I won't."  
  
"You-" She protested.  
  
"We're done." He said flatly.  
  
"What do you mean?!"  
  
"We're done talking. Now."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it anymore."  
  
"Severus!"  
  
He turned away. "You heard me," He said quietly, "We are done."  
  
Severus was a very talented speaker. Just by the way he presented his final sentence, Lorelei knew the conversation really was done.  
  
She stormed away, angry that he wouldn't listen to her. He was making a mistake; a really big mistake, and she knew it. Her sister Narcissa had worked hard to get into that group; to gain Lucius' favor, and it was well worth it. Even Lorelei felt the effects of it. And there was Severus, turning down an invitation.  
  
Lucius and his gang were all gathered in the common room. Severus eyed them warily as he passed. He thought he was in the clear -none of them had said anything by the time he reached the stairs to his dormitory -but then he heard the cold drawl of Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Severus," Lucius began, "Do you have a moment?"  
  
He turned to look at Lucius. The older boy was sprawled on the sofa, Narcissa at his side. They were both thin and blond with light eyes. Lucius always tried to make himself look as important as possible and Narcissa...She would've been pretty, if it weren't for the disgruntled look always plastered on her face.  
  
"What do you want, Lucius?" He asked pointedly.  
  
"I've been pleased with your recent behavior, Severus. I feel that it's time you join us." He made it sound like a glorified offer; like it was the only thing any one would want.  
  
"No."  
  
Lucius' face clouded over. No one had ever rejected an offer to join his group. "No?"  
  
"No." Severus repeated calmly.  
  
"And why not?"  
  
"Because I don't want to."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't need you. I know who I am and I don't need you to be me. People are very different than you think,   
Lucius, They don't all want to be powerful like you. I won't be some little servant of yours, waiting on you hand and foot, giving you answers for your homework. I may only be twelve, but I'm not an idiot."  
  
"You're making a mistake, Severus, a big mistake. You'll come crawling someday and, long after the chance has flown away."  
  
"I don't think so." His voice was no more than a whisper, "I don't think I'll ever want to be like you. I don't have to be like you, just because I am a Slytherin."  
  
Lucius stared at the scrawny boy, all decked out in black. His inky eyes shone darkly from his pale face and Lucius could see it all; every one of Severus' emotions, the pride, the anger, even the loneliness and the fear. There was something about quiet little Severus Snape that Lucius couldn't quite put his finger on, but he knew the boy was telling the truth about not wanting to be a part of the group.  
  
"Fine then," the older boy spoke slowly, "Go off on your own; see how far you get. But remember, you had your chance." He smiled wickedly, "Don't expect any kind of warm welcome if you change your mind."  
  
"I won't."  
  
Severus went to bed that night feeling oddly at peace with himself, despite the fact that he had just sealed his fate. It didn't seem to bother him that he'd be friendless for the rest of his school years.  
  
Classes went on and the days passed quickly. Evan, Kennett, Claudius, and Roderick -although they were never really friendly again- warmed back up to Severus. Lorelei couldn't stand him after the way he'd turned down Lucius Malfoy. Sorrel and Ivy ignored him just as much, because they were Lorelei's best friends and she wanted them to.   
  
Nothing changed between Severus and James. Or Severus and Sirius. The two Gryffindors still hated the Slytherin to a great extent and vice versa. Peter -when he wasn't cowering in fear- was horrid and Remus was just plain indifferent.  
  
Severus might've actually liked Remus, if he hadn't been friends with James and Sirius. Remus Lupin was smart. He knew a lot. But he was always seen looking so sickly and tired; he always looked exhausted.  
  
There was another, a fifth friend in this Gryffindor group, who also drove Severus crazy. Lily Evans, friend of James, was always giving Severus pitiful looks, as if she felt sorry for him. She was a pretty little thing, with dark red hair and jade eyes, but she was a Gryffindor, she was friends with Potter's gang, and Severus didn't like her.  
  
There was a nice little bit of a blizzard one Friday evening in December and the next morning all the younger students rushed outside to romp in the snow. Third years and above paid no attention to the snow. They trooped out of the castle and past the younger students, all headed to the wizarding village of Hogsmeade.  
  
Severus paced around uneasily, not really wanting to be outside, but not wanting to be cooped up in the castle either.  
  
The snow was nearly waste deep and he plodded through it, trying to think of what he felt like doing. Quite suddenly, he was hit from all sides by a barrage of snowballs. Something plowed into him head-on and he was knocked to the ground. he felt like his spine was fractured into about a million pieces and, as he gasped for breath, he realized it was Sirius Black who had tackled him and was then pinning him down.  
  
"C'mon, c'mon, hit 'im now, while I've got him down!" Sirius was yelling.  
  
Severus lay there, dazed, as every inch of his body was pelted with snowballs. He could hear Peter's squeaking laugh, Sirius' harsh chuckle and James' hysterical giggle. Remus wasn't with them; he was sick (again), but the three of them without him were bad enough.  
  
They left him crumpled in the snow, his breath coming in ragged gasps, the snow on his face melting and running together with his tears.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
Severus peered through the snow crusted in his eyelashes to see Lily Evans standing over him. He sat up slowly, brushing snow from his hair.  
  
"Severus, are you all right?" She repeated.  
  
He wiped his eyes.  
  
"They didn't mean to hurt you." She continued.  
  
"Oh, but they did." He said softly. It hurt him to breath. He winced. "They...they mean everything they do to me." He stood slowly and a cascade of snow flakes fell from his hood and cloak.  
  
She stared at him long and hard. His face was, as usual, expressionless, but she could see the tears he refused to cry in front of her. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"I'm fine." He said shortly.  
  
She smiled. Laughed. "You can't fight the tears that aren't coming, can you?"  
  
"You wouldn't understand."  
  
"What? What wouldn't I understand? You? Of course I don't understand you. I don't know what makes Severus be Severus. You spend too much time hating the world for any one to know you."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Severus, I know you don't like James or Sirius. And they don't like you. But if you all gave each other a chance..."  
  
"There were plenty of chances last year. More than enough. I just want every one to leave me alone. No one likes me anyway."  
  
"You don't give them any reason to. Look at you, the way you act; the way you look. You make people think you're not worth it." She frowned, "You're very...very...ugly; your heart...your soul...your very being..."  
  
"You are just like them." His deadly whisper filled the air, "Just like them! Get the Hell away from me!"  
  
"Severus, I didn't mean it that way." She'd hurt him. He was suffering and she'd hurt him more.  
  
"You did. Every one means it 'that way.' I am not the most pleasant looking person. I know that. But it doesn't mean people need to hate me."  
  
"Severus..."  
  
"No." He began breaking a path through the snow, Lily trailing behind him, "No more. Leave me alone."  
  
"But Severus!"  
  
He didn't listen, just marched up the steps and into the castle, past Professor Southby, who'd taken in the whole scene, and down the hall.  
  
The young teacher stopped Lily. "Let him be, Miss Evans."  
  
"But Professor, I hurt his feelings!"  
  
Scythrop Southby -who was in his first year as both Potions Master and head of Slytherin House- knew Severus. he knew what the boy was like and he knew Lily's attempts to apologize would do no good. "Miss Evans, a boy like Severus has no feelings to hurt."  
  
"That's wrong! I saw him trying not to cry!"  
  
"Severus is a survivor, Miss Evans. He's torn apart, broken and scarred. He flies on broken wings. His feelings have been so hurt, they cannot be hurt any more."  
  
"Why? What happened to him?"  
  
"Does your father love you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your dad. Does he love you?"  
  
"Sure he does." She paused, "Why?"  
  
"His doesn't. His mum, Syrene, was in her seventh year when I was in my first. She married when she was twenty. She thought she was ready. But she didn't know what she'd gotten herself into. Severus' father, Severen...he's a dark wizard of sorts. That's why Severus knows so many curses. That's why he's so good at the Dark Arts. It's what he grew up knowing. But Severen's been in trouble with the ministry."  
  
"What'd he do?"  
  
"My mum works in a branch of the Misuse of Magic Department; it deals with the Dark Arts. That's where I'm headed in a few years, and he gets in trouble a lot for the use of illegal curses." The teacher sighed, "I interned there last year. For some reason, I was the only one who could reason with Severen. He wouldn't listen to any one but me. I asked him once why he doesn't spend more time with his son. you know what he said? 'Severus?' he says to me, 'I don't have any use for that stupid, ugly boy.' You see, hatred is brought on by other hatred. That's all Severus knows."  
  
"His own father called him stupid and ugly?"  
  
"An ugly heart only sees ugly people, Miss Evans. Even when he looks at his son -his own flesh and blood- he sees no swan. Only the duckling."  
  
"But his mum...Surely his mum loves him?"  
  
"Perhaps she does. But Syrene isn't a strong woman. Powerful, yes, but lacking in the strength to stand up to her husband."  
  
Lily frowned. She didn't like what she was hearing, didn't like it at all.  
  
Scythrop looked at her. She looked upset. He smiled kindly. "Don't worry about Severus, Dear. He is a tough kid. He can take all the blows life deals him. He's smart, he's clever. And Dumbledore watches out for him. He'll fly someday and there will come a time that you are glad to know him."  
  
"I don't think I'll ever be glad I know him." Lily said slowly, "He makes me so angry."  
  
"You'll be glad. Trust me." He assured her. What he didn't tell her was that his sister, Roswitha, was a seer and that he knew things that most people didn't. "Now go on and have some lunch, Miss Evans."  
  
She made her way down to the Great Hall. On the way to the Gryffindor table, she caught sight of the school's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, talking to Severus. The scrawny boy was nodding his head as if agreeing with Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Severus sat down at the Slytherin table and buried his head in his hands. He hated his miserable life.  
  
He'd just finished speaking with the Headmaster about what Potter and his friends had done to him. "Are you hurt?" Dumbledore'd asked him, "Any broken bones? Bleeding?"   
  
When he'd shaken his head "no," the whole thing had been dismissed as a prank.   
  
"But Headmaster," He'd protested, "I didn't deserve it. I was just minding my own business."   
  
And Dumbledore just smiled. "All I can tell you, Severus, is that you should've thrown snowballs back at them."  
  
So there he sat at the table, cursing them all in his mind, when Ivy Greenleaf sat down across from him.  
  
"You look awful, Severus." She said very cheerfully, as if she got pleasure out of his misery.  
  
He looked up at her. Ivy was a very earthy girl, with dirty blond hair and moss green eyes. She loved anything that had to do with nature. She spent so much time outside, her skin was permanently tanned and freckled. She loved Herbology and was the only person in the whole school who got excited about re-potting anything besides Professor Juniper Bloom. She wasn't exceptionally pretty, nor was she ugly; she was rather plain. She was very down-to-Earth, very thoughtful and very cunning.   
  
He made a displeased sort of noise. He looked awful? She looked like she'd gotten up and gone off without coming her hair. It hung around her face, which was streaked with dirt from the previous day's Herbology lesson, in wild tangles. There was also dirt under her fingernails. How she managed to get herself so filthy in the winter was beyond him. At least he had reason to look awful.   
  
"I saw what they did to you." Her eyes sparkled, "Why didn't you curse them; turn them all into slugs or something?"  
  
He glared at her. "Why are you speaking to me?"  
  
"Lorelei's mad at me. Her owl, Peregryn, ate my favorite herb -my Rosemary- and I turned him back into an egg."  
  
"Oh." He said quietly. "Why do you suppose they did that to me. Ivy?"  
  
She thought a moment. 'Every one is a moon," She spoke slowly, as if trying to remember exactly what it was she wanted to say, "and has a dark side which he never shows any one. Welcome to the dark side of the moon, Severus."  
  
"Why do I get to see the dark side?"  
  
"They don't know you. We scarcely hate any one we know."  
  
"You're too damn smart, Ivy."  
  
"Actually, Professor Southby told me that. I, um, asked him once why he thinks every one is so mean to you. 'E says it's 'cause you never talk to any one. I don't even know anything about you."  
  
He half smiled. "That's how it should be. You know all you need to know about me."  
  
"It isn't much."  
  
"What else do you need to know?"  
  
"What's yer mum like? Or your dad? Do you have any brothers or sisters? That kinda stuff."  
  
"My mum's pretty powerful. She's really weak, though, around my father. He doesn't like me much, because I stand up to him. But I know he never wanted me any way. He tells me all the time."  
  
"That's sad."  
  
He shrugged. "I don't need either of 'em. I'm used to people not caring about me."  
  
"Professor Southby cares about you."  
  
"And he's the only one."  
  
Ivy looked slyly over at the Hufflepuff table, where a girl named Deanna Stockwell sat staring at Severus.  
  
Deanna was a little weird. She was smart, but she did everything sooo slooowly and whined and complained ever time something went wrong. She was afraid to do anything that would go against the rules. A nervous, jumpy girl, she had thin, black hair, light skin and vivid blue eyes.  
  
"I don't think he's the only he's the only one." Ivy said tartly, "That Hufflepuff girl is always staring at you."  
  
He scowled and Ivy smiled evily. "What'o you suppose she sees in you? Maybe she likes guys with bad tempers and greasy hair." This said, she left the table.  
  
Severus slumped back down in his seat. He closed his eyes and an image of Sirius Black lunging at him sprang into his mind.  
  
"Perhaps you should have something to eat." A kindly voice said.  
  
Severus looked up. Scythrop Southby was standing behind him, looking mildly amused. "I'm not hungry." The boy said softly.  
  
"I'm not surprised. Come. We'll talk." The professor beckoned Severus to his feet. He led him down to his office in the castle's dungeon. "It's interesting," Scythrop said once they were both comfortable in his office, "How you push others away from you. Are those tactics you learned from Severen?"  
  
Severus raised his dark eyes to look at the teacher. "All I learned from my father is hate." He whispered, "My father has never shown me anything but hatred. We come to fear what we hate. My father is afraid of me. He's afraid of my mum."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"He knows we're stronger than him." He frowned.  
  
"That frightens your father?"  
  
"Sure. I don't like what he does. He's fully aware of that. But if I were to be more powerful...you get the idea..."  
  
"Severus, you look like your mum."  
  
"Father doesn't like that. He says I'm the ugliest, stupidest kid he's ever laid eyes on. He was amazed that I learned all those curses and that I haven't flunked out of school yet. He never seems to notice how smart I am." The small boy's eyes filled up with tears, but he tried to hold them back. He snuffled miserably.  
  
"Don't try to fight it. Twelve years are too long to keep tears inside." Scythrop said gently.  
  
"I wish...I wish my father didn't do that to me." A few tears trickled down his face. "I wish he hadn't been like that." He seemed to have lost his commandeering tone; his voice seemed very small. "He made me hate...me."  
  
"NEVER be ashamed of who you are, Severus! NEVER! And don't let any one be ashamed of you!" Scythrop was suddenly quite furious.  
  
Severus shrank back. He'd seen the potions master angry before, but he'd never been the cause of his rage.  
  
"Let me tell you a story, Severus. A story about my family." Scythrop seemed to have calmed down a bit, "I have two brothers and three sisters. My oldest sister, Norma, is a squib. Not an ounce of magic in her. It crushed my mum. She has so much pride in the fact that our family's been wizards for ages and ages. Then Norma...Mum's so ashamed of her. Norma, therefore, hates herself. She hates anything magic. I haven't seen her in ten years. I have a niece and nephew I've never seen. Another niece I've only seen once. Margaret is so talented. She'd be in the same year as you; she's twelve, just like you. Very talented. It's a waste. That's what shame can do. DO NOT LET YOUR FATHER HURT YOU. Severen's not worth it."  
  
Severus stared up at Scythrop Southby, his stringy hair falling in his eyes. He looked terrified.  
  
Scythrop relaxed a bit and sat back in his chair. He had realized he was scaring Severus. "Sorry about that. I'm quite rabid about the free use of the word 'shame.' Now then," He pointed his wand at his desk and a plate of food appeared atop it, "Have a little lunch. You look like you could use it."  
  
"I'm not hungry."  
  
"Do you ever eat?"  
  
"I'm never hungry."  
  
"Never?!" The teacher looked alarmed.  
  
"I haven't been all semester. I've got to force myself to eat."  
  
"That's not right, Severus. It's troubling. Perhaps you are sick."  
  
"Maybe. I don't feel sick. I'm just not hungry."  
  
"Come with me, Severus. Please. This will bother me. We're going to the infirmary."  
  
"Yes, Professor."  
  
He knew Professor Southby wasn't kidding. He trailed along behind the young man to the hospital wing.  
  
  



	3. Chapter 2

Madam Pomfrey took charge of him right away. "You look horrid, Young Man." She said brusquely.  
  
"I always look like this." He said quietly.  
  
"It's unhealthy, Boy, unhealthy!" She barked, "What have you been eating?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Really?! Come now, tell me or I can't help you."  
  
"I really haven't eaten anything. I'm not ever hungry."  
  
"Oh my...Oh Dear..." She suddenly looked very concerned . She glanced at Professor Southby, "Is this true?"  
  
"He doesn't eat much. You don't suppose...Could it be...?"  
  
"I've never known any one with it; it's very rare these days...but, yes, it's possible. What's his family like?"  
  
Severus was confused. What was very rare? What was wrong with him? What did his family have to do with it?  
  
"Mother, Syrene, powerful, but a coward. Not at all strong-willed. Father, Severen. Power-hungry, hate-filled, cruel. _The Mad Curser_."  
  
"No! You're his son?!" Madam Pomfrey looked sharply at Severus. "Then I'm afraid it probably is..."  
  
"What can be done?" Scythrop asked quietly, "I only know a bit about it. We must act quickly."  
  
"It's beyond my power and capabilities. I cannot-"  
  
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!" Severus' whisper erupted into a shout, "TELL ME!!"  
  
"It's not my place to tell you." The nurse said slowly.  
  
Severus whirled to face Professor Southby. "TELL ME!" His voice rose with his growing panic, "AM I DYING?!"  
  
Scythrop ignored him and looked at Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, run and fetch Professor Dumbledore. This is a situation the Headmaster himself must attend to." His expression was deathly serious.  
  
"Yes, Scythrop." She hurried out the door, leaving Severus staring at the Potions Master. Then she poked her head back in the room, "Do what you can for him. God knows he needs it." That said, she was gone again.  
  
"What's wrong with me?" The boy repeated calmly. "Why can't any one tell me?"  
  
Scythrop sank down to be level with his young student. "Don't be scared. Fear only makes it worse." He said gently.  
  
Severus opened his mouth to question him again, but Scythrop silenced him. "I cannot tell you. Dumbledore will."  
  
Severus was trembling. He felt very cold and it suddenly occurred to him that he was still wearing his cloak, which was damp from the snowball attack. Scythrop seemed to realize it at the same time. He took the boy's frigid hand and led him over to one of the beds in the infirmary. "Sit down." He handed him a fleece blanket, "Wrap yourself in this. You must be frozen."  
  
He pulled of his damp cloak and sat down, wrapping the blanket around himself. It took him a long time to get warm. It was when he began to feel less numb that Dumbledore breezed into the room, followed by Madam Pomfrey.  
  
The Headmaster looked sadly at the scrawny boy. "I was afraid this would happen. Syrene warned me that he's half-starved."  
  
"I'M NOT HUNGRY!" Seveus exploded. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT?! TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!"  
  
"Don't be so angry, Severus." Dumbledore said calmly, "You're going to kill yourself."  
  
"What?" He asked weakly, "What is wrong with me?"  
  
"It's not so much anything wrong with you as it is with your father."  
  
"My father?" He was puzzled.  
  
The Headmaster peered at Severus through half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes burning into him. "Severen's not fond of you, correct?"  
  
"He hates me."  
  
"That's what's wrong." Dumbledore sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the boy. He looked very troubled; very upset, as if the world were falling apart. He appeared very deep in thought, like he were contemplating exactly how to put it so that Severus would understand. "You have a conflicting soul, Severus," He said finally, "You don't want to be like your father, but you don't want to compromise who you are either. All those troubled feelings are brewing inside you and the contempt is most dominant. This happens sometimes."  
  
"What does?" Severus felt very disturbed. He bit his lip, wondering what was coming next.  
  
"You're feeding off your own hatred. The way your father feels about you...it's unnatural. He did this to you. There's much power in hatred. One evil rises from another..."  
  
Severus stared at the Headmaster in disbelief. "My father's dislike for me is keeping me alive?"  
  
"In part. You do a pretty good job of keeping every one angry at you, Severus. That helps. Haven't you ever wondered why you feel content to have every one hate you?"  
  
"But Headmaster...What's so bad about it? I'm alive, aren't I?"  
  
"Just barely. If he doesn't stop, you will die at the hands of your own father."  
  
"He'll never love me." The boy said quietly, "He wishes I were never born."  
  
"Then the only thing to do," Dumbledore decided, "Is to try and counter it."  
  
Severus sat there pitifully, unsure of what to do. A few tears slid down his cheeks. He looked at the three adults surrounding him, then down at his hands. He'd never felt so small and helpless. His whole being felt numb.  
  
"You've got to try and fight it, Severus. You've got to! Do not let your father do this. Do not let him kill you. He wants to; oh he wants to so badly. Don't let him."  
  
He looked up at Dumbledore, his face very white. His eyes held a mournful look; his face, a frightened yet determined expression.  
  
"How? How do I stop him?" His voice was so low, they almost didn't hear him, "He's miles away from here."  
  
Dumbledore beckoned Professor Southby forward. "Scythrop, I'll leave this to you. I know you care about the boy and you know what must be done."  
  
"Yes, Headmaster." Scythrop nodded gravely. He stood Severus up, still wrapped in the blanket and sank down to once again be level with his young student. "Leave us, please."  
  
Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey both looked solemnly at the two; the frightened boy and the troubled young man. Then they left the room together, shutting the door on the way out.  
  
Severus stared at him through inky eyes. Professor Southby's cobalt eyes blazed back into his. They just looked at each other for a moment. The only sounds were Severus' drawn out breaths and maybe the frightened thud of his heart. He wondered what the Potions Master would do to him.  
  
What he was expecting -what ever that may have been- certainly wasn't a hug. But there, it happened. Scythrop folded him into his arms, hugging him gently. The boy was struck silent by such a simple act of kindness. No one -that he could remember- had ever hugged him before.  
  
"You're talented. You're smart." He could hear the teacher's voice. The words of praise filled him with warmth and a dull ache began in the pit of his stomach. "I'm proud of you. And, Severus?"  
  
"Yes, Professor?" He whispered.  
  
"Your life is worth living."  
  
Severus smiled. He laughed. His stomach hurt, but he felt warm and safe and almost happy. He hadn't felt that way in weeks. Years. And he knew, he just knew, why his stomach ached like that. "Professor?"  
  
"What Severus?"  
  
"I'm Hungry!" He hadn't had a proper meal in weeks. He hadn't been hungry in weeks.  
  
"Good to hear it, My Boy." The teacher conjured up a bowl of chicken soup. He pulled a little vial full of silver dust out of a pouch on his belt and sprinkled it into the bowl. "That's _Spiritus_. It's honest to goodness soul food. It'll make you feel better."  
  
He began eating. It felt good going down. Halfway through the soup, however, he seemed to realize something important. He stopped eating. "Professor Southby?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Tomorrow's my birthday, Professor."  
  
"Is it now? Thirteen already, Severus?"  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"That's wonderful," The young man smiled kindly, "That it's on a Sunday."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"No classes."  
  
"But I like classes. I love learning."  
  
"You like my class so far?"  
  
"Oh, yes, Sir. Much better than when Professor Zeppelyn taught it."  
  
"Glad to hear it. You've got a talent for mixing things. You'll be great with potions someday."  
  
"I'd rather do Dark Arts. That's my favorite. Except...I don't really like Professor Visle."  
  
"I know." Scythrop smiled again. He and Nickolai Visle had very different views on, well, everything. Apparently, Nickolai and former Potions Master Leandra Zeppelyn had been very good friends and her retirement didn't sit well with the Dark Arts teacher. He was not at all happy with her replacement and was not fond of Scythrop in any sense.  
  
Then the smile disappeared from his face. "Severus, have you ever gotten a birthday present?"  
  
The boy's pale face brightened. "Sure." He said. "I got the family watch."  
  
"The family watch?"  
  
"It was Mum's. Been in the Serpeaux family for years. It usually goes to the first-born son, but Mum was an only child, like I am, so she got it."  
  
"May I see it?"  
  
Severus pulled the watch from his pocket and handed it to Scythrop. It truly was a wizard's watch; it had no numbers, but rather phrases like "late," "early," or "dinner time." A green snake wound around the middle of it and the single, gold hand was twisty and turny, but it was supposed to be like that. The gold case had a fancy "S" etched in it.  
  
"This is very nice, Severus."  
  
"Mum's whole family's been nothing but Slytherins. That's why it's got a snake on it. My grandmother says some relative of mine actually knew Salazar Slytherin, but I dunno if it's true."  
  
"That's the only thing you ever got?"   
  
"Uh-huh. My father says giving me stuff will make me weak." His thin face clouded over, "And Mum agrees. She wants me to be strong; to stand up to him. Because she can't. I have to work for anything I need." He shrugged, "But I get along okay."  
  
"Your parents don't deserve you, Severus. You're a good boy; too good for them."  
  
"You think so?" Severus was quiet, as always, "Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"  
  
"I never say anything I don't mean. Never." Scythrop told him, "You should know that by now. I'm not like most Slytherins. If you don't cross me, I'll be nice to you. I look out for people whom I know are decent. I wouldn't do a thing for Lucius Malfoy."  
  
"There aren't many who would." Severus said dryly, "Oh, he's got his 'friends' but they'd desert him as soon trouble rears its ugly head. And he wanted me to be a part of that; he wanted me to join them."  
  
"Did he?"  
  
"Yes. He said he was 'pleased with my recent behavior.' He likes the way I've been treating Peter Pettigrew. He likes how mean I've been. He also likes how smart I am. Lucius is a clever one. He's devious. Thought I'd be flattered." He smiled wickedly, "I turned him down."  
  
"Good for you. You certainly don't need him."  
  
"I know. I'm fine on my own. I don't need any one."  
  
"Severus, that's not true. You simply cannot exist on your own. Not in your current state; not with the curse hanging over you. No friends, no help with the _Detestari_."  
  
"...That's the curse...?"  
  
A nod, "That's the curse that will kill you if you don't let people into your life, if you don't make friends and let people care about you."  
  
"Why would my father put a curse on me? I don't understand." Severus said slowly, "Does he really hate me that much? _'Detestari' _...that's Latin for 'detest,' right?"  
  
"I'm afraid it is. As for your father, I can't say why Severen would curse you. I don't know him very well. But I know him enough to correctly say that _you are not like him_."  
  
"I hope I'm not like him. I don't want to be like him."  
  
Scythrop looked at Severus. He felt an overwhelming amount of compassion for the lonely boy. But he wasn't sure exactly what Severus was feeling. He had five siblings. He'd never been alone. He'd never been on his own like that. He simply didn't know what it was like. "You all right there, Severus? Cheer up a bit. Tomorrow's your birthday."  
  
"My birthday's never been cause for a celebration. My father only sees it as one more day to criticize me and my mother doesn't want me either. She says my birthday only serves to remind her that I shouldn't have been born. She says she regrets it because she doesn't like to see me suffer; she doesn't like to see Father hurt me."  
  
"Well, we'll celebrate."  
  
"Why are you doing this? You'll gain nothing from this."  
  
"I may gain a friend. I like you, Severus. That is possible, you know, for people to like you. People just might want to be friends with you. They just might care about you."  
  
"Ivy likes me..." He said slowly, "...I think. And maybe Claudius. And there's this Hufflepuff girl that always stares at me. But that might be because she thinks I'm weird."  
  
"You should let them be your friends. It'll be good for you. It'll make you stronger; help you fight your father."  
  
"They won't want to be friends with me. I ruined that for myself," His voice was so low, "Because I wanted to be by myself."  
  
"They keep coming back, don't they? They still talk to you. They still sit with you. The circle has not ended. They still want to be your friends. That's why they keep coming back. Friends don't just leave one another."  
  
"There's some other reason, isn't there, that you're doing this? Not just because you like me."  
  
"Yes, I suppose there is. But that is my reason, and mine alone."  
  
"You feel sorry for me, don't you? You think there could be nothing in the world worse than being me."  
  
"Perhaps I do. But there are things I know -things I was told, which have happened; things which may come to pass and things which, I pray, will not come to pass. Roswitha has told me, Severus, and Roswitha has never seen wrong."  
  
"Who is Roswitha, Professor?"  
  
"She is my sister -one of them- and she is a pure soul, a true seer, and a very powerful one. There is nothing she has seen that has not happened, unless it was changed by the person to whom it will happen."  
  
"She's seen me?"  
  
"Oh yes, My Little Friend. When I wrote home about you, she wrote back to me with all sorts of visions."  
  
"What'll happen to me?"  
  
"I cannot tell you." The professor's tone was serious. He looked very grave and very concerned.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"It is never wise to know too much about one's own future. That's one of Roswitha's favorite phrases. She won't tell me what she sees about me. These, she says, are shadows of what may come to pass, but, so far, she has not seen wrong."  
  
The frightened look once again crossed Severus' face. Scythrop looked at him, all huddled up and withdrawn, his eyes glittering with fear, and he smiled in a caring sort of way. "Do not trouble yourself over what you do not know, Severus. Nothing is certain. The only thing that stays the same is 'everything changes.' These things may also not come to pass."  
  
"I don't understand. I do not understand why this must happen. I don't understand what I have done to deserve this. Is it my fate? Is it written in the stars that I must suffer?"  
  
"The stars do not tell the future, Severus. That is something only a true seer knows." The teacher said knowingly, "This must happen to you so you learn from it. So you become strong. So you are not your father's son."  
  
Severus looked wordlessly from the Professor to the bowl in front of him. All the old emptiness came rushing back. He'd been happy for a brief fleeting moment. And then the happiness came crashing down. He no longer felt hungry. In fact, he felt nothing at all. Only that familiar numbness.  
  
He knew something. Professor Southby was keeping something from him; something big. He knew it. There was some horrid thing the professor wasn't telling him, something that would greatly change the course of his life. And he didn't like it.  
  
He looked back up. The young teacher suddenly looked old and tired; as if the whole problem, starting with the snowballs and ending with Detestari, was draining him of all his energy. Severus felt bad for Professor Southby, but he certainly hadn't asked for the man to get involved.  
  
He pushed the bowl away. "I can't eat this any more." He said softly.  
  
Scythrop felt defeated. He had tried his hardest to do all he could for the boy, to make him feel loved and wanted. "Go then. Go back to the Common Room. Do your homework. But stay away from James Potter and his friends."  
  
Severus stood slowly. He picked up his cloak and headed for the door. When he reached it, he stopped and looked back. "Thank you, Professor. You did all you could. I suppose it's up to me and my father now."  
  
Scythrop nodded, causing his dark hair to fall into the blue pools of his eyes. "Yes, Severus, it is."  
  
The troubled boy wandered the empty halls, thinking about what he'd been told. it was a curse, the_ Detestari_. He understood that. But, he wondered, had his father pointed a wand at him; uttered some ungodly phrase, and placed the curse on him? Or was it a curse of a different kind.  
  
He trudged down to the Library to see if he could look it up in one of the charms books. Maybe then he could make heads or tales of the situation; find out exactly how bad off he was. It was in the first book he picked up, the_ Index of Charms and Hexes_, and what he read sent chills up his spine. **_  
  
DETESTARI _**  
**_  
Detestari_**, commonly known as the "Hatred Curse," can only be performed by a highly skilled wizard. It requires a great amount of concentration, precise wand movements and an intense dislike for the cursee. Banned in most of North America and Africa, Detestari is one of the most deadly curses created in Medieval Europe. It robs the cursee of every  
emotion except anger or hatred and can only be fought by the exceptionally strong- willed. The weak, however, will eventually lose the desire to live. They will distance themselves from every one until they die a miserable death. Most people who exist under the curse have no appetite and do not need to eat. The hatred of of the curser becomes enough to sustain the cursee and they live off their own contempt. There are only two ways to end the effects of Detestari -if the curser changes his opinion of the cursee or if the curser dies. There is no counter curse. This is a favorite among Dark Wizards, as it causes a more painful and drawn out death than the Killing Curse, **Avada Kedavra** ( for more about **Avada Kedavra**, see page 1566).  
  
Severus slammed the book shut. His throat was dry, his hands shaking. There was no way his father would change his mind about him. And there was no way he could kill his own father either. "...Until they die a miserable death..." Surely he couldn't have been that disappointing of a child. What was it that Scythrop knew? Would he die? Was his father going to kill him? Tears slid down his face. How could he save himself?   
  
No one noticed the pathetic boy hidden in the corner of the library. No one noticed the tears rolling off his pale face. No one asked what was wrong or what they could do to help. No one cared. They went about their lives as they always had, happy, worry free. They never wanted to know him, never wanted to be his friend. And it was killing him...   
  
  



End file.
